Grand Master (Demons, #3)

by Simcoe, Marina

  “I FORGOT TO BLINDFOLD you,” Vadim said with a frown as we took our seats at the restaurant where I brought him when we got back to the city. “This is the first time I’ve neglected my responsibilities.”

  His expression—a mix of regret, puzzlement, and a dash of wonder—prompted me to pat his gloved hand in comfort.

  “No worries. I was rather taken by our conversation to pay any attention to where we were driving.”

  “If you knew the location, would you tell anyone?”

  I searched his face for any signs of suspicion or accusation but found none.

  “No,” I replied honestly. “I would not. If you want me to keep it a secret, all you have to do is ask.”

  He nodded, apparently content with my answer, but I couldn’t take my gaze away from his face.

  Physically, I was attracted to Vadim way before I saw his face. I loved his large body, the way he held himself with innate dignity. His deep voice. His scent. At this point, I didn’t believe his face would matter that much to the way I felt about him. And it didn’t.

  Still, as I stared at him, I couldn’t help but admire the absolute perfection of his features and the stunning combined effect of them together.

  The sharp angles of his jawline and high cheekbones under his tanned skin conveyed strength.

  The firm set of his mouth, strong chin, and thick, dark eyebrows that seemed to be permanently drawn into a solemn expression spoke of dominance and power to me.

  Impossibly long eyelashes softened his stern face, giving him a dash of true beauty that only intensified his handsomeness to the level of almost unbearable.

  “I can’t figure out the colour of your eyes.” I squinted, fully aware that my staring at this point was borderline rude.

  Not my fault, he is so easy on the eye.

  “There is a lot of green in them,” I continued. “But not quite emerald . . .”

  “Jade,” he said, and I blinked, feeling my cheeks warm up with pleasure that trickled through to every part of my body. The way he said my name, with that deep velvet in his voice, sounded so incredibly sensual.

  He meant ‘jade’ as his eye colour, you dummy!

  For that was exactly what they were—the shade of green was warmer than emerald, with yellow specks.

  “True. They are jade.” I shifted under his gaze.

  The waiter brought my plate of cold cuts and filled our glasses with sparkling water. Vadim hadn’t ordered any food, claiming he was not hungry. I wasn’t either—to be honest, I couldn’t even think about food right now—but I felt I had to order something since the dinner was my idea after all.

  “What is this?” He pointed with his chin at my plate.

  “Oh, it’s sliced beef tongue, a local delicacy.” I tilted my head. “You’ve been in this country long enough to know that. Have you tried it?”

  “No. May I?” He lifted his fork with the question.

  “Sure.” I slid the plate his way. “It’s not bad, once you get past what it is. I like the texture—very tender.”

  He lifted a slice on his fork and inspected it carefully.

  “Humans have a wide variety of ways in which they prepare their food,” he said slowly, as if speaking to himself.

  “This one is just boiled, I believe, with some spices, but you can have it marinated as well.”

  Vadim took a tiniest bite of the slice on his fork. “And?”

  “Interesting.” He placed the fork with the remaining meat on the side plate. “I don’t believe I’ve tasted anything like this before.”

  “You don’t eat meat?”

  “No.”

  He reached for his glass of sparkling water and took a sip then quickly grabbed his napkin before sneezing in it.

  “Bless you.” I smiled.

  “Sorry.” He stared at the bubbles rising to the top in his glass, in clear bewilderment. “I did not expect this.”

  “What do you mean?” I leaned back in my chair. “Don’t tell me you’ve never had carbonated water before.”

  “No. I don’t believe I have,” he replied, his expression completely serious. “Gas bubbles in water must be fairly new.”

  “New? Well, I’m not sure when it came to Belarus, but water was first carbonated sometime in the seventeen hundreds.”

  He nodded, as if it made a perfect sense to him now.

  “That would explain it. I was long on the Council by then, with almost no contact with humans outside of the Base,” he muttered, only confusing me further.

  “What?” I asked, hoping I didn’t hear him right—he was speaking rather softly—because otherwise I’d have to worry about how sound his mind actually was.

  “Nothing.” He blinked, his attention fully on me again. “I don’t go out much, as you might have guessed by now.” The sudden, wide smile he gave me almost made me forget any concerns.

  “Do you mean you spend most of your time in that building out there?”

  “I spend all of my time there, with very rare exceptions.”

  “What do you do in that place?”

  “Work. Live.”

  I waited for him to elaborate, but he asked me a question instead, “What happened tonight, Jade?”

  His avoidance of talking about himself was becoming harder to ignore. My curiosity was tinted with worry now. What were the reasons for his evasiveness? What was he hiding?

  Still, I resolved to be as honest as possible with him. I had nothing to hide. Maybe if he saw how open I was, he would grow more comfortable with opening up, too.

  “Tonight? I’m not sure I can explain it properly. It just stopped being fun,” I said, pushing the slices of meat on my plate. “With me, it happens often. Things I find exciting stop being that after a while.”

  “What other things have you liked?”

  “Oh, many.” I laughed. “I guess for me it’s always about doing something new, thrilling, and a little dangerous. Have you gone skydiving?”

  “No.”

  “Bungee jumping? Surfing? Rock-climbing? Skiing? Mountain-biking?”

  He kept shaking his head to every question.

  “Nothing at all? Is there anything that would get your blood pumping with adrenaline and start your heart going?”

  “Yes. You.”

  I snapped my gaze to his. His calm way of delivering compliments caught me off guard every time. My face heating with a blush, I blinked, gaping at him for a moment.

  “I meant an activity, Vadim. Something you’d do for fun, like sports?”

  “For fun? All of what you’ve mentioned comes with risk to your life,” he pointed out.

  “Hence the thrill,” I agreed.

  “Human life is short and fragile as is. Why would you deliberately risk it?”

  I’d heard the same question from people before. However, from him, it didn’t sound like judgment. Vadim seemed to be genuinely puzzled by my choices.

  “Well, some things do carry more risk than others. To tell you the truth, I’m glad I’ve done skydiving and bungee jumping, but I don’t think I’d ever do it again. I believe, however, that there is always at least one thing for everyone that stays with you. Something you’d do over and over again. And instead of wearing off, your enjoyment from doing it only grows.”

  “Do you have a thing like that?”

  I nodded.

  “For me, it’s surfing. I’ve been doing it since I was a kid, and the more I surf the more I love it. In fact, that’s one of the things I miss the most from back home—next to my family—the ocean.”

  “What do you like about surfing?”

  “Oh God, so much!” I exclaimed, trying to think of everything I felt when on my surfboard. “The way your mind and body work in a perfect harmony. When you get every muscle in you to do exactly what you want it to do.” I paused for a moment, searching for words to describe the feeling of pure joy and awe swelling inside me at the memories. “Then everything aligns perfectly, and there is this one moment when you, the
board, and the wave become one, gliding together through time and space. Nothing else exists. You can feel the power of the ocean, the Earth, and the Universe—and you truly become a part of it all. It’s incredible . . . magical.” I exhaled and added with some frustration, “I’m sorry, I can’t explain it better. I wish you could feel it . . .”

  “I do.”

  The flickering light of the candle on the table between us must have reflected in his eyes, as sparks of blue flashed from under his long eyelashes.

  A little too bright and too blue for the candlelight . . .

  But the expression of wonder on his face stopped my concerns. Suddenly, I felt so close to him, as if we shared a true understanding that could only be possible between people who knew each other inside and out.

  I wanted to share more with him—my joy, my thrill, my passion.

  “I wish I could take you surfing one day, Vadim.”

  “I’d love that.” He smiled, and to me his words sounded like a promise.

  Chapter 16

  OUR DINNER TOOK MUCH longer than expected, although neither of us ate much. Vadim continued to avoid answering personal questions, but we still found many topics to discuss. Mostly about me.

  As few answers as he had for me about his own life, he seemed to be filled with questions about mine. His desire to know more about me and his attention to everything I said appeared genuine. I told him about my family back home, my childhood growing up with four brothers, studying in the United States, and working all over the globe afterwards.

  I hardly noticed how the time flew by. The night sky above us was already edged with grey as I stepped out of the car.

  “I’ll walk you to the door,” Vadim told me as soon as he opened my car door, taking my hand to help me out of the vehicle.

  Suddenly, I wasn’t ready to part with him yet.

  “Thank you, Vadim. For the ride and the dinner.” Despite the invitation being mine, Vadim had insisted on paying the bill. “I really enjoyed it.”

  Suddenly, uncharacteristically shy, I stopped at the door. My gaze down, I felt his stare on me but couldn’t bring myself to meet his eyes.

  “Me, too.” His voice dropped a notch as he stepped closer. His breath stroked the side of my face. “I enjoy being with you.”

  He didn’t touch me, yet him being this close, his voice flowing around me, his scent washing over me—made it impossible to part with him.

  “Would you—” I swallowed hard, my dry throat making my voice husky. “Would you like to come up?”

  “Yes,” he replied immediately.

  With my gaze somewhere on his belt buckle, I fumbled in my purse for my key, then realizing I didn’t need one for the building entrance, punched the code in the lockpad.

  My stomach fluttered with butterflies, and my chest expanded with something light and shimmering.

  Excitement and maybe a little danger . . .

  Was Vadim my next thrill? Would this feeling for him fade too? The possibility of that brought in a shadow of sadness, and I chased it away immediately, unwilling to spoil this night.

  “Come,” I said resolutely, grabbing his hand and dragging him through the door with me.

  “WOULD YOU LIKE A GLASS of wine?” I asked the moment we entered my apartment. Not waiting for his answer, I walked swiftly through the tiny hallway to my not much larger kitchen.

  “No, thank you.” His voice sounded close behind me. Very close.

  “Well.” I exhaled sharply, hating the onslaught of nerves. “I’m going to have one.”

  Saying this, I opened the cabinet and took out a glass and the bottle of red wine I had there.

  I couldn’t remember the last time I felt this nervous, and the reasons for me feeling this way were puzzling. Was it because I really cared about how tonight would go? Or maybe because I already hoped there could be more than just this one night?

  “Are you sure you don’t want any?” I asked, draining most of the glass in three gulps.

  “No. But would you happen to have some sparkling water?” he asked unexpectedly.

  “You liked it, huh?” I smiled. “ Sorry, I don’t have any here. But I’ll make sure to get some next time—” I cut myself short.

  Next time?

  Nothing had happened between us yet. I couldn’t possibly be thinking about spending more time with him already.

  With my thoughts all over the place, I grabbed the bottle and poured another glass for myself.

  “You’re extremely nervous,” he stated.

  “No shit!” I half-emptied my second glass of wine before setting it on the table.

  What was going on with me?

  Where did this anxiety come from? Like one needed to get drunk to have sex with someone like him. If anything, getting pissed would be a perfect way to make a fool of myself.

  “Why, Jade?” He gazed inquisitively at me. “Why are you feeling this way?”

  I inhaled deeply, shoving the glass away, and stepped closer to him.

  “I–I’m not really sure why, to be honest, but having you in my place tonight . . . It feels . . . special.”

  “It is special,” he agreed, his deep voice soft and caressing.

  My body flush with his now, I raised my arms and splayed my hands on his chest. He tensed under my touch.

  Maybe because of the wine or because of him, but my head swam as a wave of heat spread through me. I slid my hands to his shoulders and lifted my face up to his, yearning for a kiss.

  “Jade,” he groaned, circling my wrists to stop my hands in their journey up to his face.

  “Kiss me,” I rasped.

  Never had I ever had to beg a man for anything before. Never had a kiss felt as vitally important as it did right now. I needed it more than anything in the world at that moment.

  “No.” He took a step back. “I can’t.”

  His words were more sobering that an ice-cold shower.

  “Sorry?” I dropped my hands, confused. “I—”

  The proper thing to do here—the only thing to do, really—was to retreat, to preserve whatever dignity I had left after his rejection. But the wine lent me the liquid courage. And the built-up frustration at the dissonance between his words and his actions fuelled my anger.

  “What is going on, Vadim?” I met his gaze, determined to get an answer from him, even if it meant destroying what was left of my dignity. “You said you want it all.” I stepped back and leaned my hip against the kitchen table. “Yet you shrink away any time I get close, as if I carry the plague.”

  Even his body language was confusing. He leaned forward—towards me—hands fisted at his sides, the hunger in his stare fierce and hot. Yet, he took another step back.

  “Things I want to do to you . . .” He closed his eyes for a moment, drawing in a deep inhale. “I haven’t felt like that for a woman in . . . ever. But I’m scared. Terrified that if I touch you, I would harm you.”

  The pain in his voice triggered compassion in me. His words, however, put me on guard.

  “What do you mean? How?”

  “Until a couple of months ago, the smart thing—the only honourable thing for me to do—would be to walk away. I should have resisted picking you up in the car in the first place, getting someone else to do it when Andras left. But I had already tasted your energy and needed more of it, in whatever form I could get it. Besides, something happened about two months ago. A human woman proved to the world that it is possible to love one of us. I saw the fierce, magnificent love in her eyes, and I hoped . . .” His voice trailed off and he shook his head, breaking eye contact. “Hope made me do irresponsible things,” he muttered.

  “I don’t understand, Vadim.” Hardly anything he’d just said made sense to me.

  “I don’t want to lie to you, Jade.” He met my gaze again. “But I have no idea how to tell you the truth.”

  “What truth?” I searched his face for answers, finding none. “Just tell me, please. Whatever it is . . .”

&nb
sp; “I’m not human,” he said gravely, his eyes firmly on mine. His grim expression left no doubt it was not a joke.

  Slowly, I took a step back.

  “What are you then?” A chilly suspicion that this beautiful body may hold a fractured mind dawned on me. I clasped my hands tight. “Vadim . . .”

  “I want you to know, Jade, I’d rather burn in hell for eternity than see any harm come to you.”

  “Why would there be any harm?”

  He exhaled heavily then swayed my way before taking another step back.

  “I have . . .” he rasped, avoiding eye contact with me now. “I have killed before.”

  “What?” I shook my head in disbelief. Vadim might not be well, but I refused to accept he was a murderer.

  His gaze slid to somewhere past my shoulder.

  “I killed a woman . . . With my bare hands. When all I wanted was to make love to her . . .”

  As he spoke, sombre and completely serious, cold dread settled inside me, turning from a chilly trickle of suspicion to a solid brick of icy fear.

  Sobering up at once, I shifted closer to the knife drawer.

  “Why did you do it, Vadim?”

  His gaze snapped back to me, making me regret speaking aloud—drawing his attention.

  “I couldn’t stop myself in time.”

  His answer turned my dread to horror.

  Just because he hadn’t hurt me during the months that I knew him didn’t mean he wouldn’t do it now. After all, this was the first time we were truly and absolutely alone, with no armoured men outside the door and no car driver nearby.

  One on one with a murderer . . .

  My curiosity and thirst for adventure got me in trouble after all, even if not exactly in the way I would have predicted it.

  Blindly, I reached into the drawer behind me and grabbed the first knife my hand landed on.

  “Jade . . .” he exhaled at the sight of my weapon. “You don’t need that. I would never hurt—”

  “But you have hurt before,” I cut him off, my voice hard and sharp like the knife I held in front of me. “You said so yourself.”

  He dropped his shoulders, without denying a thing.